Enfolded
by LadyDeb1970
Summary: Second story in Worlds Apart series, sequel to Choosing to be Family:  John Keller's eight year old daughter has been kidnapped and Jack Harkness sacrifices his life to save hers.  Again.  As many times as it takes.


Disclaimer: Jack Harkness belongs to the BBC. John Keller belongs to the _Transformers_ franchise. His wife Corinna and their daughter Lacey belong to me. I don't mind if you borrow them. . .just please ask first, and return them to me alive, intact, and more or less unscathed. The un-named woman who kidnapped Lacey also belongs to me. . .and you can use your imagination about who Jack's associate is. However, as far as what he looks like, I'm visualizing Christian Kane. Just sayin.'

Author's Note: This is the second story in the _Worlds Apart_ universe, in which Jack once again dies multiple times, saving someone who matters to him. While at the end of the first story, the little girl's nickname was 'Lexie' (as given to her by her parents), it's now 'Lacey,' because she couldn't say 'Lexie.' The next story will take place in 1990. I know, both stories have been written from the perspective of someone else, but I'm still fine-tuning Jack's voice. . .he is not as easy to write as it would seem!

Enfolded

About sixty miles from Fort Riley, KS

December 1982

That bitch took his little girl.

Correction, she took his little girl _and_ killed his best friend. Oh yes, Jack didn't stay dead, but that wasn't the point. It hurt like hell when he died and it hurt like hell when he came back. And she took his little girl! Being obsessed with him was one thing. . . flattering at first, then spooky as hell, but all right. However, to obsess on his eight-year-old daughter and claim that the little girl was _her_ daughter, rather than Corinna's? Oh hell yes, she was beyond unhinged! And then to bring her here, to this secluded cabin in the woods, an hour's drive from the base and forty-five minutes from the Keller house. . . definitely unhinged, not to mention unoriginal.

In a distant part of John Keller's mind, he knew she wasn't well. He knew she deserved pity. . .deserved treatment. But right now, the rest of him simply didn't care. Lacey was only eight years old; a bright and resourceful eight year old, certainly, but a child nonetheless. Moreover, she was _his_ child, and he was sworn to protect her. He was wise enough to realize he couldn't shield her from all of life's ugliness.

Further, he was wise enough to realize that he shouldn't even try. . .he wanted her to survive not just childhood, but whatever life threw at her. And that was something that wouldn't happen if he shielded her from everything and anything. It was why he ignored every instinct he possessed and agreed to Jack's request to teach Lacey some rudimentary self-defense when he visited the Keller family for any length of time. That included, Jack observed, teaching her what to do if someone _did _grab her. None of them wanted to believe that would happen, but John was now a Major, on the career fast track, and it was entirely possible that his daughter would end up as a target. Rinna hadn't liked it, but she trusted Jack and she knew his lessons were their daughter's best chance of surviving nearly anything. And she knew he would sacrifice his life for her. He already had.

Besides, after Lucia Moretti's return to Torchwood with their young daughter Melissa eighteen months earlier, Jack was even more protective of Lacey. He would never speak of it, but John could understand Jack's thought process. _I can no longer protect my little girl, so I'll protect Lacey instead. _And when John pointed this fact out to his wife, Rinna responded with an uncharacteristic growl and a promise, "Yeah, and if I ever get my hands on Lucia Moretti, she'll be the one in need of protection, not Lacey or Melissa!" Ouch. He almost felt sorry for their friend's ex, especially since Rinna was the youngest of five children, and her four older brothers taught her how to throw a punch properly. Emphasis on _almost_.

For now, however, both Melissa and Lucia were out of their reach, and Lacey was. . . currently out of their reach, but Jack was working on that. He left their car a few minutes earlier, moving purposefully toward the cabin where Lacey was being held. As ever, the long greatcoat made quite the dramatic picture as it whirled about his ankles. The bastard probably did it on purpose. _Give me fifteen minutes_, he said, _and then do what you have to do._ John tried not to think about how many times his friend was likely killed in the last few minutes. . .and failed miserably. He tried not to think about Jack's assertion that he would be the best suited to retrieve Lacey, and he failed in that as well. And not even his wife's cold, white-knuckled hand in his eased his sense that it should be him, not Jack, rescuing his daughter. Lacey was his responsibility, not Jack's. No matter how much Jack loved Lacey, no matter how important Rinna and Lacey were to Jack, they were John's family and they were his responsibility. He had failed them both. And because he failed them, Jack might endure several very painful deaths.

At his side, Rinna continued to ramble about what she would do when Jack returned with Lacey, her Southern accent thickening with emotion. So far, she covered hugs and kisses, going on a baking spree of their favorites, hugging the breath out of Jack and then doing it again when he came back from the dead (John opted not to mention to his wife that she already said that), and tanning Lacey's little backside for scaring the daylights out of her. That wasn't fair, John protested, reminding her that Lacey never asked to be abducted. In fact, judging by how ransacked their house was, and Jack's surprise when he saw the damage, Lacey fought with every bit of strength in her tiny body: scratching, biting, and kicking all the way. According to the young man now watching the house, she was yelling her head off, too. Rinna, predictably, burst into tears and admitted that she knew that it wasn't Lacey's fault, but she was scared and wanted her little girl back.

So did John. And as he waited for his best friend to return with his baby girl, he tried not to think about how his night had gone so far. It was supposed to be a simple date night for John and Rinna. . .dinner and a movie, while Jack watched over Lacey. And they had a wonderful date. . .even talked about having another child. And then. . .and then, they got home. He tried not to think of the state of his house when he and Corinna returned, or of Jack, who was only just beginning to sit up and groaning. And above all, he tried not to think of how he betrayed Jack, grasping his lapels and slamming him into the wall, demanding to know where Lacey was. Oh yes, he betrayed his best friend and oh yes, Jack forgave him, but since when didn't Jack forgive? Maybe because of his unusually long life and inability to stay dead, his friend was the most forgiving man he had ever met. That didn't make John's betrayal sting any less.

Dammit, he _knew_ that Jack would sacrifice himself without a second thought for Lacey! He knew that, and he attacked his friend anyway. Yes, he was distraught by his child's abduction, but how did he think Jack felt when he died, realizing that Lacey would be taken. How did he feel when he returned to life, to find her gone, the house ransacked, and to top it off, find himself slammed into a wall by a man he should have been able to trust? Jack sacrificed himself to protect Lacey. Jack came up with the plan to get her back. And Jack was the one taking the risks, Jack with his desperate need to atone. John was just along for the ride, because Jack and his rough-looking associate believed the first people Lacey would need to see once she was safe would be her parents.

His friend explained it with painful clarity, reminding John that he was the only one who had nothing to lose. He wouldn't stay dead, the Kellers were his only family, and he was a freelance operative without a career to destroy. So they sat here, in the cold December night, and waited as a man who couldn't die rescued a little girl who wasn't his responsibility. They waited with the aforementioned rough-looking associate: a young man whose name John didn't know, but was either Torchwood or someone even more dangerous. However, he was someone who Jack trusted implicitly. . .someone who would be ready if things went pear-shaped, as he put it, and someone who made it possible for them to trace Lacey's abductors.

Things went pear-shaped. Naturally. The first indication that something was terribly wrong was the series of gunshots inside the house. One. . .two. . .three. . .four. . .five. By this time, John knew the sound of Jack's Webley when he heard it. . .and that was definitely it. After the series of shots, there was a long and terrifying silence. Rinna inhaled sharply, her hand tightening around John's reflexively. Her hand tightened further, when Jack sped around the house and raced toward them, gravel flying under his feet. Lacey was enfolded tightly in his arms, face pressed into his chest. That was good. What wasn't so good? Well, that became obvious a moment later. The woman who took John's little girl burst out of the house, screaming in rage and aiming. . .was that a crossbow? It was! Before John could move, before he could even cry out, Jack's friend was in motion. However, John's attention was distracted away from whatever he planned to do when Jack stumbled and fell to his knees, just a few yards away from the car. John did move then, removing his hand from Rinna's and fumbling with the door before he was finally able to push it open and ran to Jack's side.

Now he could see the arrows sticking out of his friend's back. John swallowed hard, but forced himself to focus. There was still work to do before any of them were safe. All the color was draining from his friend's face, but he found the strength to rasp out, "Lacey, take Lacey." Rinna swept their daughter from Jack's arms, sparing him a quick, concerned look. With Lacey safe and in her mother's arms, Jack allowed himself to slump into John's own waiting arms and quietly died. John looked up with a grim smile of approval as Rinna carried their little girl to the backseat of the van, where she could check her over. . .and wouldn't hear Jack's gasp as he returned to life.

John turned his attention to his friend, removing the arrows from Jack's body as quickly and carefully as he could, and then held onto him. Jack's resurrections were always incredibly painful, and Rinna learned during one resurrection that they were far less traumatic if someone was there, holding onto him. And though this was far from the first time since he'd seen one of Jack's resurrections, John still jumped a little when Jack returned with a loud gasp, his blue eyes wide and fingers grasping to hold onto something, anything. John held him, murmuring, "It's over, you're safe, you're both safe. You're both safe, it's okay." He largely ignored the young man who accompanied Jack. He didn't care what the other man did. Not now that Lacey was safely back in her mother's arms and Jack was alive once more. Nor did he care about what happened to the woman who took his child.

"Jack! I wanna see Jack! Those bad people hurt him!" they heard Lacey crying, heard Rinna trying to soothe her. Jack slumped against John, gasping, and John just held onto his friend, murmuring apologies. Apologies that he died again, protecting Lacey, apologies for his behavior when he and Corinna returned from their date, apologies that he couldn't take the pain away. At last, Jack raised his head from John's shoulder, still breathing heavily. He gestured toward the van, and was on the point of saying something, when there was a terrific blast behind them. John ducked over Jack protectively, instinctively, while Rinna yelped and Lacey shrieked.

"Sorry 'bout that. . .didn't have time to warn y'all. You okay, old man?" Jack's associate asked Jack. John's friend nodded, looking utterly exhausted but fiercely determined, and the young man asked anxiously, "Is the little lady all right? Really didn't mean to scare her. . .poor kid's been through enough already." John blinked at the question, but Corinna picked Lacey up and carried her back to the three men. The young man added, "Got a niece about her age. Hey, sweetheart, it's okay. . .that bad lady ain't gonna hurt you or Jack or anyone else, ever again. See? She ain't gonna hurt anyone ever again." Lacey, however, continued to whimper in her mother's blouse.

"Lacey," Jack said hoarsely and Lacey's head came up. She wiped at her tears and Rinna carefully settled her on her feet once more. John's little girl scampered over to them, throwing her arms around Jack's neck. His arms came up and drew her in close against his chest, murmuring, "Shh, everything's fine now. You're back with your mom and dad, and she can't ever hurt you again. Shhh. . .I'm fine, too, honey, I'm wearing a protective vest, she didn't hurt me, I promise." Lacey pulled back, allowing Jack to wipe the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs.

"How come I didn't feel it? Daddy says those are big and heavy, but you don't feel any different!" Lacey asked, sitting down into Jack's lap, snuggling against his chest. Rinna sat down beside John, resting her head against his shoulder. John thought a bit numbly that they should probably move, before someone decided to investigate the great bloody bonfire. But his daughter didn't seem inclined to move from her position in Jack's lap, and Jack wasn't of a mind to move her. For that matter, John wasn't, either. They could give their little girl this time, however short it was.

"It's a very special protective vest, sweetheart, very thin. I'm all right, Lacey. Have I ever lied to you?" Jack asked. John mentally observed that he just told his first lie to the little girl, but Lacey wasn't ready to be told that Jack couldn't die. No. No, that wasn't true. If anyone could accept it, it was a child. But neither he nor Rinna were prepared to answer the questions that would follow. And so, to protect them, Jack was lying to a beloved child. Yet another sacrifice he made for them. Lacey shook her head and Jack continued, "That's right. . .and I'm not lying to you now. I'm all right. And we have to go, darlin,' before some people decide they should find out why this fire is out here. Rinna?" Rinna leaned forward and scooped Lacey back into her arms. John helped Jack to his feet, and the Torchwood freelancer told the young man, "Clay, thank you again. I don't know why you were even here, but I'm grateful you were."

"Don't matter, old man, not now. Just glad I could be there to help the little lady. Major, was a pleasure to meet you and your lady. Heard a lot about you from Jack. 'Bye, sweetheart," the young man responded. Lacey waved a little, but quickly ducked her face back into her mother's neck. Clay smiled wistfully, observing, "She'll be all right. Small but mighty, that little lady." John had to grin at this observation. He and Rinna always thought so, but they were somewhat biased. In a lower voice, the young man named 'Clay' pointed out to him, "Look after the old man for me, will ya? He ain't made a single innuendo yet, and that worries me."

"Hey! Still here, you know!" Jack protested. Clay just smirked as Jack went on, "Besides, everything that's been coming to mind, shouldn't be heard by little ears. Yes, Clay, I do have some sense of decorum and I even exercise it on occasion." His voice dropped a little as he added, "I can think of other things I'd much rather be exercising, though." And that reassured John far more than anything else he could say. Jack continued, flashing a smile at the man now helping him toward the van, "What do you think, John, you and Rinna ready?"

"Aw, give it a rest, old man!" Clay scolded. Jack just grinned. . .okay, so maybe he wasn't as all right as he pretended to be. John knew his friend well enough to know his smiles, and to know when his heart wasn't in it. Right now, though he was starting to make his trademark quips and innuendos, Jack was not at his best. Clay added, looking toward John, "Think you might wanna drive, Major Keller. Don't think the old man is quite up to it yet. And I wouldn't dream of how to tell you how to raise your little girl? But you might want to think about tellin' Lacey the truth. The old man's got enough guilt on his soul, without lyin' to her." John flushed and nodded. Yeah, he and Rinna had to talk about that.

"Don't start, Clay, please. . .you know not everyone reacts well to finding out about that. And I'm not ready for Lacey to start hating me," Jack pointed out hoarsely, proving to John that his friend really wasn't back to normal yet. No, that was true, a lot of people did take Jack's inability to stay dead. . .badly. John himself nearly had a hysterical fit the first time he saw the time traveler come back from the dead. But Lacey would be able to accept it. . .she certainly wouldn't hate him for something he couldn't control. . .and she was proving to be pretty good at keeping secrets. Hell, she never said a word to Rinna about John's anniversary present for her, and she was almost as giddy with excitement as John was when they found it!

So why was he asking this of his friend? Because he and Rinna weren't ready for the questions that would follow. . .and because Lacey shouldn't have to keep those secrets. She was a little girl, and growing up too fast as it was. She was being taught how to defend herself, was learning about emergency preparedness, and she was only eight years old. No doubt, based on her personality, that if John and Rinna did have more children, that she would appoint herself not just big sister, but protector as well. No. For just a little while longer, they would let their daughter be a little girl.

He said as much to Jack, who merely shrugged wearily. Then both men laughed as Lacey imperiously demanded that Jack sit beside her in the backseat. However, Jack agreed, sliding in beside the youngster and drawing her into his arms. Her head came to rest under his chin, against his chest, and John stared at the picture they made for a moment. It was something that occurred to him more than once. Jack Harkness didn't hug. Not really. No, he enfolded those he loved, within his arms and within his heart. Just as Jack was even now enfolding Lacey in his arms, her head come to rest against his chest, just over his heart.

John swallowed hard, told himself to get his ass in gear, and slid the door shut. It was time to take his family home. All of his family. He shook Clay's hand, thanking him again for helping to rescue Lacey, and then moved to the driver's side of the van. In a few days or few weeks, Jack would leave again. He would come back when he was hurt or tired or just needed to spend some time with people who loved him. People who would enfold him in turn. John, Rinna and Lacey would be ready to care for him, to love him, to enfold him.

Fin

Additional note: The full explanation of what happened between Lucia Moretti and Jack in this universe will come in a later story. Let's just say that Rinna is not being an over-protective 'little sister' for now.


End file.
